Return To You: A Small Town, Second Chance Romance

36. Grace

thirty-six

My belly somersaults when I pull up my driveway and see the chick magnet sitting in my driveway. Ethan. Ethan is here. In my house.

I swing the door open and throw myself in his arms. He swirls me around and kisses me. “Hey, beautiful.”

“What are you doing here?” I throw my car keys on the kitchen counter.

He gives me a squeeze. “Is it okay I came? I have a surprise for you.”

“You’re the surprise. Of course it’s okay.” I grab his nape, wrap my legs around his waist, and hoist myself up with the help of his hand under my butt. “Kiss me first. Real good. Real hard.”

He nibbles at my lower lip. “Always so bossy, you.”

I smile against his mouth. “Too much?”

His gaze deepens. “Never enough,” he murmurs. Then he takes my mouth in slow strokes, his hand in my hair, as he walks us to the bedroom.

“Thank you for the brand-new deck,” I whisper when he releases my lips reluctantly.

He seats me softly on the bed and cages me, his fists in the bed on either side of me. “Wasn’t too loud?”

I grin. “You mean your cheerleaders?”

He looks utterly confused. Did he not notice all my clients eating him up and whooping? “Never mind,” I say.

Damian wedges himself between us, purring. I scratch between his ears. “Were you a goo’boy?”

“He was a very goo’boy. He helped me with a little project.” Ethan straightens himself and moves sideways. “What do you think?”

I stare across the space he left empty, to the wall across my bed. Frames of varying sizes adorn the wall, and a sense of panic seizes me.

Two pucks on shallow, framed-in shelves.

A folded Jersey in a glassed-in frame.

A ring of twine in a vintage jewelry box.

A slab of wood with an engraving: A heart prank reign.

And a collage of photos around an old mirror.

My blood buzzes in my ears, and I feel lightheaded. My heart booms in my chest, and my lower lip trembles as wetness pours from my eyes to my cheeks.

Ethan moves to the wall. “I can—I can remove everything if you don’t like it. I just… I just…” He starts unhooking the frame with the jersey. “I’ll just put everything back the way it was.”

I extend a hand. Nothing can ever be the way it was. “Don’t. It’s—it’s fine. I mean, it’s gorgeous, and thoughtful, and beautifully done… Ethan. Come here.” I grab his hand and pull him down to me. He leans over me, pushing me onto my back on the bed, peppering kisses over the tears streaking my cheeks. I’m not sure what’s happening to me right now. These mementos up on the wall… it’s like a weird museum of lost dreams. “D’you think I’m crazy?” I whisper.

He frowns, then rubs his face with his hand. “I’m so sorry. I—I thought—I wanted to do something sweet for you. I fucked it up, didn’t I? I knew I’d fuck it up.” He rolls on his back and takes me with him, my head on his chest, his heart beating like crazy, booming through to my core. He strokes my back softly while I try to calm my thoughts. “You didn’t fuck anything up,” I murmur.

“Grace, d’you think I’m selfish? Be honest.”

What? “Where is this coming from?” I lift myself up to look at him.

“Never mind.” He flits his gaze to me, boops me, and resumes his observation of the ceiling.

I stroke his arm softly, the ridges of his bicep under my fingers awakening something lower in my body. My gaze settles on the wall. “Why’d you do this for me?”

“I—I didn’t want the memory of me to be hiding in a box.” He kisses my hair. “I—I wanted you to keep thinking about me… when I’ll be gone. But I realize it was selfish.” He takes a deep breath.

“Aren’t we quite the pair. The crazy bitch and the selfish prick. Perfect for each other.”

He laughs and pulls me to him. “You’re so romantic.” Then he kisses the crown of my head and adds, “You’re not crazy, and you’re certainly not a bitch.”

“Seriously though, why did you build me a shrine to our love?”

“I’m practical. I don’t want you to go through that box all the time.”

“Admit it. You just want to cockblock the men I’ll bring home once you’re gone.”

He laughs and pinches my waist. “Busted.” But when our gazes meet, his smile is forced.

“I’m sorry. That was a stupid joke. You know there will never be anyone else but you.”

“Course I do,” he says, his voice breaking a little. ”Just like there can never be anyone else but you for me.” His gaze caresses my face as he adds in a whisper, “Only you can touch my soul, my heart, and my body the way you do.”

I kiss the corner of his mouth, and he pulls me in for a full-on kiss, his hands kneading my ass, pulling my whole body to his. “One more thing,” I say when he releases my lips. “You and I, we have a future together. It’s just on us to design it. It may not look like what we thought it would, but… it’s ours to build.” I glance to the wall with all our memories. “Our past was just a fumbled, if beautiful, beginning.”

“Fuck, Grace,” he whispers, “What d’I do to deserve you?’

“Right back atcha.” My eyes mist at the thought that these are our last few hours together until Ethan leaves. And even if he’ll be coming back for a weekend, for the foreseeable future, our lives will be like this now. Apart.

I roll off him. “How’d you get in?” I ask to change the topic. I swear I locked the door this morning.

He produces a key from his pocket. “I might have kept the key you had under the rock. Here.” He puts it in my hand. “Just promise me you won’t put it under the rock again.”

I don’t want the key under the rock. I want it back in his pocket. On his keychain. “Promise.” I take the key and shut my eyes and kiss him so we don’t talk about the heavy stuff again.

“I’ll go grill us some burgers,” Ethan whispers against my mouth. “Did you want to change? Or take a shower? I could join you in the shower. What do you want?”

I want you to stop being so nice and attentive. I want you to stop giving me options that are all so overwhelming.

His gaze darkens. “Grace… stop looking at me like that.”

My strength leaves me as I inhale his scent, rinse my eyes with the sight of him leaning over me. How did I ever get so lucky to have Ethan King in my life not just once, but twice? “Like what,” I manage to whisper, my fingers playing in his short hair.

“Like… like that.” He shuts his eyes, seeming to be in pain, and lowers his body over mine, running his hands along my sides, then lifts me higher in the bed and kisses me softly. His hands cup my face as if I’m something so fragile and precious to him, and I love—love—when he does that. The outside world becomes muffled, and my entire being seems encapsulated in Ethan’s strong hands, the object of his sole attention.

He runs his hand under my skirt, caressing my hips, then trails to the inside of my thighs, his thumb rubbing my clit through the thin strip of my G-string. I moan against his mouth, grasping at his strong back. With a soft flick, he moves the fabric aside and exhales loudly as his fingers dip into my folds.

He lifts his head slightly away from me. “I want to watch you come. Let it go. Come for me.” He draws circles around my clit then narrows in on the sensitive nub, bringing me to the edge.

“Ethan,” I moan, writhing under his touch.

“That’s it, baby.” His touch intensifies. “God you’re so beautiful when you come for me.”

My back arches on its own as the orgasm rolls out. He dips two fingers inside me, and I come harder, crying out in agonizing pleasure. He cups my pelvis as the last of the orgasm shakes me, then when I’m calmer and breathless, brings my skirt down and caresses my hair.

“How’s that for the end of a stressful day?”

“Better than all the cocktails in the world.”

His laughter rumbles softly through my body. “I’ll go make us some burgers. And a drink if you’d like one.”

“That sounds perfect.”